


sins of the father

by braigwen_s



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Beifong Family Feels, Bonding, Cross-Generational Friendship, Family Issues, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Murder, high society - Freeform, mentions of rape/non-con, wary friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 18:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20277652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braigwen_s/pseuds/braigwen_s
Summary: Asami Sato is approached by Lin Beifong.  They both have a lot to discuss, but they're surprised that it's with each other.





	1. after that first storm

“Can I sit down?” rasped Beifong, and Asami jumped in surprise and then hurried to clear a seat. She’d been throwing documents and affects everywhere, half packing to move to Air Temple Island and half just needing to throw them. The shock glove she’d used on her father was lying on her desk like some sick trophy. She’d been trying not to glance at it all night. The desk was the one non-cluttered space in her whole office, and she was faintly embarrassed at how messy it was, but not enough to make comment.

Beifong didn’t make comment either. She just watched her in silence, then picked a careful path across the floor and sunk into the proffered armchair. “Thanks,” she muttered, closing her eyes for a moment. Asami wondered how long she’d been standing in the doorway for, watching her, and then how she’d even gotten into her house. Earthbenders were _creepy_, she thought, and then had to swallow down bile as she heard her father’s voice and prejudice. Beifong’s eyes snapped back open just in time to see her flinch, and her face formed an expression that Asami couldn’t read. It was less deliberately opaque and more _distant_, like she was thinking about something else. Asami remembered she was a detective. Or had been, maybe.

“If you’ve come here to ask me questions,” she said, voice somehow not shaking, “I will cooperate fully.”

To her surprise Beifong shook her head, sitting up straight with a slight wince. Asami wondered again how long she’d been standing in the doorway, but this time out of concern. It had been a long time since she’d seen her up close, apart from what had happened yesterday, and she’d only thought of her as Chief Beifong, Pain In Her Father’s Ass and Person Who Never Convicted – well. She didn’t like to think about it.

“It’s been awhile, Madam Sato,” she said, as if divining her thoughts, and Asami was taken aback by the respectful title. Of course, though, she was an adult now. And she’d shocked her father last night. That meant they’d worked together, and in combat no less. That probably meant something to a Police type with a war hero for a mother.

“You’ve grown up,” Beifong finished wryly.

Asami looked at her. One of her knees was trembling, and her face was drawn and washed-out, deep purple arcs below her eyes. Her hair and brows had fully greyed. As well as the two on her cheek everybody noticed, there was a faint litter of white scars across the visible skin of her hands and neck. She looked almost a statue, if statues breathed and looked sceptical. Asami flushed. Not wanting to say _and you’ve grown old, Ma’am_, she settled on “that tends to happen to people”.

Asami couldn’t tell if the dry chuckle that got her was uncomfortable, amused, or filled with decades’ worth of repressed grief, but for her own and realism’s sakes she decided on the former.

“Some of the time,” Beifong said, and there was a brief, awkward silence. Asami thought of her mother, who’d grown up but never old. She’d met Beifong for the first time during the homicide investigation, and her father had always said she must have missed some evidence, because one of the assailants – from the Agni Kai triad, she’d researched years later – had walked free. Now she doubted that too, like everything he’d ever said.

“I know I’m not the most … affable person,” said Beifong, “but I wanted to express my sympathy for what happened.” Her voice was hoarse, and Asami thought the Equalists must have hurt her pretty badly last night. She’d been out for a while. And shit, she’d done that to her father, how was he – No, she mustn’t be concerned for him. He’d tried to kill her friends. He’d tried to convince her to kill her friends. He had hurt her friends.

_You’ve taken both my parents from me now_, she wanted to say, but she knew it was an untruth born of grief. _Three of your officers are still in the hospital_, was the next response that came to mind, _and who am I to take sympathy from you about fathers, at least I thought I knew mine_. That was both cruel and crude, so she settled for a weak but not unmeant “thank you”.

Beifong nodded, and the clock chimed six – Asami turned and saw that outside, it was dawning.

“I shan’t keep you any longer, Madam Sato,” said Beifong, getting slowly to her feet. “And I have things to do as well.”

Asami got the strange sense that, despite her words, she didn’t entirely want to leave. Perhaps the tasks that she referred were particularly unpleasant. She bowed politely, and was close to offering to walk her to the front door, but she didn’t. it would probably come across as quite rude, either an accusation of trespass or of weakness – intruders, the infirm, and family and close friends were the only people who usually got walked to doors by the host. Beifong was neither family nor a friend, so Asami hoped a faint smile from her office doorway would suffice.

It did.

She heard less than two hours later that Beifong had just resigned, and couldn’t help but have a sort of pity. She was surprised, as well – the woman had always been a fixture. But, then, it wasn’t her problem, and she certainly had enough of her own to be getting on with.

She finished staring the glove down, and put it in her smallest bag. It was almost time to leave, and she wasn’t about to do so weaponless. Asami Sato was many things. She wasn't sure what they all were, yet, but she did know that ‘foolish in regards to her safety’ was not one of them.


	2. tell me about him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avatar's in the South Pole, and Asami has plenty of time to dwell in various pasts. Lin does, too.

“You worked with my father, didn’t you,” said Asami. It was not a question. “And you investigated my mother’s – death.” It was on the one hand a plain statement, and on the other a demand for information. _Tell me what happened to her. Tell me about how you knew him._ A year without Korra breaking things – a year of loneliness – had brought the two women into an odd kind of friendship.

It still wasn’t enough to talk about some things. Beifong glanced, rabbit-like, at the doorway. “I’d prefer to have this conversation elsewhere.”

That was understandable. After more than two years, Asami still kept expecting her father to walk into her office, to ask what she was working on. To have studied a body here, the burned body of another woman with spirits-know-what done to it… she nodded. “Where would you like?”

Beifong looked at her hands, and said “Air Temple Island”. Asami thought about Tenzin, and the old pictures Jinora had shown her, and the way they still both looked to each other for safety. For the first time, Asami came to a new suspicion about her father, and she wished it shocked her more.

“Very well,” she said, rising.

Without consultation, they both turned into a back alley. They knew the roads with their eyes shut, and more than had the awareness and combat skill to be emerge unscathed. A few urchins jumped back as they passed – Asami tossed them some coins – and an older man stopped sneering as soon as he saw her glare. As they turned back to the main road, a young person in Police uniform recognised Beifong, jumped a mile, and tripped over a bucket trying to salute. “At ease,” she said, and the kid scrambled to their feet and hung their head, shamefaced. Beifong shook her head, boots clicking the ground companionably. Metal soles went well with cobblestone.

“City’s finest,” laughed Asami, as soon as they had passed earshot. While she scowled, she didn’t argue. There had been Mako, after all.

They both tipped the ferry-driver well, and with one practiced glance Pema said "the third courtyard, you two, I'll make sure no-one bothers you."

_“Miss Beifong,” he said, bowing, and she bowed back, but not as low. _

_“Mister Sato.” _

_He held out a hand to her, smiling. “May I have this dance?” _

_She hesitated, subtly touching a toe to the hall’s floor, working out where Tenzin was. He was talking with his mother at the other side of the room – good, far away enough to not be visibly jealous, and close enough to be on hand if Sato got pushy. _

_She proffered her own hand, allowing his lips to brush it. “You may.” _

_He led her onto the main floor, dodging past a few assorted nobles, and, to Lin’s eternal mortification, Uncles Aang and Zuko, swirling in some elaborate style, both smirking. Aang even winked at her. _

_“Business not pleasure,” she mouthed back, scowling, and she caught the edge of his laugh before the song changed and Sato spun her._

_ “So,” he said, as she neatly away ducked just before his hand touched her waist, “I hear the Police Force is considering the purchase of a few Satomobiles.” _

_She ducked under his other hand, irritated she grasped the rhythm better than him and wanting to lead. “Considering. The final decision rests with my mother.” She left the implication clear: _she hates the idea, but I can persuade her. Convince me to do that_. _

Despite how sensitive this anecdote was to both women, Asami found herself biting back a smile.

“What?” said Beifong.

“It’s ... just a little strange to think of you being a socialite.”

“You mean being polite,” she said, and Asami didn’t deny it. Beifong smiled too.

“Oh, I played the game, but not happily. In fact, that same evening, I will confess I … engaged in a little violence.”

_“The money doesn’t matter,” she said sweetly, and trod on one of his toes. They both pretended not to notice, but she felt his pain running through the floor. “Efficiency and safety do.”_

Asami shouldn’t have burst out laughing – that was her father – but she did anyway. “That’s the Lin I know and love,” she said, fearing she’d gone too far as soon as she’d said the last word. Beifong stared at her for a few moments, clearly unsure how to respond. Asami held her breath, but Beifong just looked away and continued telling her story.

_“Ten,” she said, with her head buried in his arms, “can you give me a lady’s favour?” _

_The term’s gendering was misleading – it was an old Earth Kingdom tradition, but these days in the cultural blend of Republic City, it was simply a lover’s token, worn to show that the owner was ‘off the market’. Tenzin stroked her hair. “Of course – if you don’t mind an Air Nomad’s simple cloth.” He was always self-conscious about the roughspun wool of all that could be his favour, among the vibrant nobility. Lin rolled her eyes, unseen, and then sat upright so he could notice._

_ “Simple suits you,” she said, and he rolled his eyes right back and kissed her. They sobered quickly. _

_“Can I ask why?” said Tenzin. “Has anybody been… bothering you?” She sighed, and pressed back into him; he wrapped his arms softly around her. _

_“Hiroshi Sato,” she muttered. “I have to meet with him tomorrow, for that Satomobile Police Commission.” _

_“Pull out of the deal,” he said instantly, his hand on her wrist going firm for a moment. “Safety comes before flashy new tech.”_

_ “Tenzin,” she said, “we need those automobiles. Is there another engineer who can design them?” _

_It was meant rhetorically, but he had an answer ready: “Uncle Sokka.”_

_ “Ten, he’s – he’s a genius, but he’s sixty. This whole thing is about the new generation, that’s the point of it.” _

Beifong looked on edge and queasy as she finished retelling the conversation, and Asami very much doubted she was looking any better. “So,” she said quietly, “my father was…”

“Use whatever word you like,” said Beifong. Her tone wasn’t ungentle, if it was taut and brittle. Asami was very aware she was a few years older than her mother would have been. She knew Pema and Tenzin had said she’d never wanted children, but she’d also seen her ruffle Mako’s hair and tell him to take a lunch-break.

Asami was … an adult. But if even her father’s _memory_ was lost to her –

“A creep,” she decided. “My father was a creep.”

“That’s not the half of it,” said Beifong, as Asami had feared she would. “Do you mind if I talk about your mother?”

Asami gestured with a hand. “Of course not.”

“As you know, not all of the assailants were convicted. I confess I should have been more thorough, but …”

“There wasn’t enough evidence?”

Beifong shook her head then nodded, then shook her head again. She wrung her hands together, and then her face shuttered and she looked at Asami with something that, if she had known her less well, she would have called professionality. As it was, she thought she looked about to vomit.

“Lin?” she prompted gently, putting her tea down and shifting closer to her. She brushed a hand on her wrist, and she stiffened as her eyes snapped into focus.

“Asami,” she said, “I’m not sure if you want to know this.”

She wasn’t sure, either. “I do,” she promised.

“We – myself, and the assisting detectives at the time – we think that it was him.”

Oh.

“That was my last family case,” Beifong said, very quickly, “I – like I said, I should have been more thorough, but I couldn’t. Couldn’t deal with it well.”

There had been discussions about Toph in recent years, Asami knew.

_We think that it was him._

Not to the extent of spousal murder, but there had been delicate, reluctant talks about some things. Some things like child neglect.

_We think that it was him._

“You holding up there, kid?” asked Beifong.

Asami took several slow, deep breaths. “I want to say that I don’t feel like he could have done it, but that wouldn’t be honest, and I… have no idea how to feel about that.”

“Nobody knows, kid,” she said, and Asami wondered at the ‘kid,’ twice in two sentences. A brief, wild thought occurred to her.

“Did he ever rape anyone?” she asked, bluntly.

Beifong’s hands were shaking again, but her eyes were sharp and comprehending. Asami ducked her head, partly to show respect and partly to hide her face. “Nothing proven nor – substantiated,” she said, the pause before the last word pointed.

The brief, wild thought was forcibly discarded. Her birth mother was Yasuko Sato, and that was that. She cleared her throat, hoping she could mask her embarrassment as merely being near tears – that, at least, was fully true. Crying would just make things more awkward, so she blinked them down and managed a “thank goodness”.

“Hm,” said Beifong, and put her own teacup down. She squeezed Asami’s wrist, quickly, almost as in return of a favor. Both of their hands were warm and trembling, but there was a solid comfort in the brief firmness. Asami decided she owed her to reveal some things as well – an explanation for her questions, at the least.

“I didn’t actually know him that well. I think he used to be around more when I was little, but my mother’s death really changed him. He got so much more distant; he kind of… threw himself into his work. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be an engineer anyway, but it was also one of the only ways I could come up with excuses to spend time with him.”

Beifong’s eyes held nothing but understanding for an hours-long second, until they shuttered again, and the honest emotion was replaced with wry amusement. “Tactful,” she said, touching her badge. Asami flushed – she had forgotten about Toph completely, and hadn’t meant to bring up Beifong’s own parental issues. “We’ll make,” she continued, “a rough-mouthed class traitor of you yet.”

Perhaps it was because Asami was already feeling vulnerable, and warmly-inclined towards her, or maybe because she was so matter-of-fact about her outcast status in their high-flying social circles. Either way, Asami opened her mouth to protest. She didn’t have any protest to say, though, and they both knew it. “There’s no need to lie, Asami,” she said, and again, she was almost gentle. Though what she said next could have been defined as ‘wry,’ she seemed entirely serious: “I certainly hope I’m a class traitor.”

Asami had the distinct feeling they were both thinking of Mako once again, but this time all the hardships he had suffered in lieu of his endearing awkwardness. “I want to be, too,” she said.

Beifong’s responding smile, though relatively small, could have lit up all the lights in the city from its rareness and its strength. “You’re already halfway there, Asami.” There was distinct pride in her voice. Asami wondered if her mother would have minded, if she had found a substitute figure. She couldn’t imagine that she would, not when she only had an awful father.

“Thank you, Lin,” she said, and meant it about much more than that statement.

Then they heard the distant sound of Meelo shrieking, and their exchanged glance as they both rose said that their so-vulnerable conversation was over, and that they were okay with that.


End file.
